Part 33
Edwards, Adams, Thistlewood, and Brunt, had frequently visited Ings during the time he kept the coffee and political-pamphlet shop, and when he was in more desperate circumstances, he became a fitter companion for persons engaged in such an atrocious crime as the one for which he suffered the sentence of the law.
For some weeks before the Cato-street discovery, Ings was in the utmost distress, quite pennyless, and the money he was supplied with to subsist upon was given him by George Edwards. Ings was also supplied with money by the same person to take an apartment, where arms and ammunition could be safely placed. He took a room in the house where Brunt lodged, and thither the greater part of the ammunition and arms was conveyed by Edwards, Adams, and himself; indeed, it was the depôt of the conspirators.
The following Letters were written by Ings in Newgate, the night before his execution:
TO HIS WIFE.
“My dear Celia,--I hardly know how to begin, or what to say, for the laws of tyrants have parted us for ever. My dear, this is the last time you will ever hear from me. I hope you will perform your duty without delay, which is for the benefit of yourself and children, which I have explained to you before. My dear, of the anxiety and regard I have for you and the children, I know not how to explain myself; but I must die according to law, and leave you in a land full of corruption, where justice and liberty has taken their flight from, to other distant shores. My dear, I have heard men remark that they would not marry a widow, not without her husband was hanged. Now, my dear, I hope you will bear in mind that the cause of my being consigned to the scaffold was a pure motive.
“I thought I should have rendered my starving fellow-men, women, and children a service; and my wish is, when you make another choice, that this question you will put before you tie the fatal knot. My dear, it is of no use for me to make remarks respecting my children. I am convinced you will do your duty as far as lies in your power. My dear, your leaving me but a few hours before I wrote these few lines, I have nothing more to say. Farewell! farewell, my dear wife and children, for ever! Give my love to your mother and Elizabeth. I conclude a constant lover to you and your children, and all friends. I die the same, but an enemy to all tyrants.
“JAMES INGS.”
“PS. My dear wife, give my love to my father and mother, brother and sisters, and aunt Mary, and beg of them to think nothing of my unfortunate fate; for I am gone out of a very troublesome world, and I hope you will let it pass like a summer cloud over the earth.”
“Newgate, 4 o’clock, Sunday afternoon, April 30, 1820.”
TO HIS DAUGHTERS.
“To my dear daughters.--My dear little girls, receive my kind love and affection, once more, for ever; and adhere to these my sincere wishes, and recollect though in a short time you will hear nothing more of your father, let me entreat you to be loving, kind, and obedient, to your poor mother, and strive all in your powers to comfort her, and assist her whilst you exist in this transitory world, and let your conduct throughout life be that of virtue, honesty, and industry; and endeavour to avoid all temptation, and at the same time put your trust in God. I hope unity, peace, and concord, will remain amongst you all. Farewell! farewell, my dear children! Your unfortunate father,
“JAMES INGS.”
“To Wm. Stone Ings, and his Sisters.”
TO HIS SON.
“My little dear boy, Wm. Stone Ings, I hope you will live to read these few lines when the remains of yr. poor father is mouldered to dust. My dr. boy, I hope you will bear in mind the unfortunate end of your father, and not place any confidence in any person or persons whatever; for the deception, the corruption, and the ingenuity in man I am at a loss to comprehend: it is beyond all calculation. My dear boy, I hope you will make a bright man in society; and, it appears to me, the road you ought to pursue is, to be honest, sober, industrious, and upright, in all your dealings; and to do unto all men as you would they should do unto you. My dear boy, put your trust in one God; and be cautious of every shrewd, designing, flattering tongue. My dear boy, be a good, kind, and obedient child to your poor mother, and comfort her, and be a loving brother to your sisters. My dear boy, I sincerely hope and trust you will regard these my last instructions. Yr. loving and unforte. father,
“JAMES INGS.”
“Newgate, Sunday Night, 8 o’clock, April 30, 1820.”
The following petition to the King was written by Ings, the day previous to his execution, it contains a repetition of some of the facts urged by him in his defence, but of course produced no effect in his favour.
THE HUMBLE PETITION OF JAMES INGS, TO THE KING.
I was born near Waltham, in Hampshire, but I have lived ever since I was about fifteen years of age at Portsea, and every one that knows me knew no harm of me; and the masters that I have lived with sent me a character for me to give to the Jury, but the Jury never saw the character.
I married a girl that I loved, and she had a little property, and I continued working till I could get nothing to do, and I went into business, and it turned out very unfortunately, and I lost a great deal of money, not through drinking and gambling, for I never went to a public-house in my life but to smoke my pipe, or for the sake of company. I can assure your most gracious Majesty, that I never was tipsey but three times in my life, and that was not through the love of liquor.
The times being so very bad at Portsea, and I had nothing to do, me and my wife made up our minds to come to London: me and my family left Portsea the beginning of May 1819. I thought when I came to town I should get a situation, but to my sad disappointment I soon found all my hopes was blasted. I tried every means I was master of to get employ for the support my family: I did not know how to act, for it was not my intention when I came to town to enter into business, I had a little money by me, for me and my wife mortgaged her property--a house I mean--to the full value of it, if it was to be sold now.
I went and took a butcher’s shop in Baker’s-row, Whitechapel-road, and I carried on business from Midsummer to Michaelmas. When I came to look over my little stock of money, I found it was very much reduced, and the summer being so very hot, was very much against me; and after I had paid my rent, and a few little bills beside, my money was nearly all gone.
I left Baker’s-row at Michaelmas, and I took a house in Old Montague-street, Brick-lane, and I fitted it up for a coffee-house, and then my money was gone. It did not turn out to my expectation, for I did not take money enough, if it had been all profit, to keep my family. I persuaded my wife to return to Portsea with the children: the reason was, I thought she had better be among her friends without money than in London.
I remained in the house a short time after my wife had left me: there was a man used to come frequently and take a cup of coffee, and he used to enter into conversation about the Manchester massacre, and Government, _&c._ I did not make but very little reply, for I took him to be some officer.
After I had left my house, I met him in Smithfield-market; he said I have caught you out, I shall make you stand treat. I am sorry it is not in my power, for I am very short at present; if I do not get some work very shortly, I must sell my few things. What have you to sell? A sofa-bedstead--it is the best piece of furniture I have. I should like to see it; if I like it I will buy it, and give you as much as any person will. I took him to my lodging, No. 20, Primrose-street, Bishopsgate, and shewed him my sofa, but it did not suit him, and he took me to a friend of his, a broker, to buy my sofa, but it did not suit him, and we parted early in January.
I met him in Fleet-market, and he asked me how I did? I told him I was very low in spirits: come, he says, have a glass of gin--that will rise your spirits. No, I thank you, I never drink so soon in the morning. We walked up Fleet-street, and we went and bought the very sword that was produced in the Court, and I took it to the cutler’s, and I left my name.
If I had known at that time what was going to be done, I am sure I should not have left my name. He took me to the White Hart, and gave me beef-steaks, _&c._ for my dinner, and I thought he was the best friend I had, for he used to give me victuals and drink when I was very short; and this was Edwards that introduced me to the party, which I never should have known if it had not been for him.
There have been a great deal more said about me in the Court than is true, but it is of no use for me to try to contradict what has been said. I never was at a political meeting in my life not before this time, and I can assure you it was through Edwards, and the anxiety for my wife and family, which brought me to this sad unfortunate situation. I can assure your most high and mighty and gracious Sovereign, that I have been a true and faithful subject till now, but being in distress, and hearing the language I did, when irritated, took advantage of my distressed situation.
I know not what to say or how to address a King, but I hope your most gracious Majesty will spare my life--life for the sake of family--for I was not the inventor of this plot.
I shall in future, if your most gracious Majesty spare my life, be a true and faithful subject.
JAMES INGS.
WILLIAM DAVIDSON
Was born in the year 1786, at Kingston, in Jamaica. His father was Mr. Attorney-General Davidson, a man of considerable legal knowledge and talent. He had several children.
William, his second son, was sent to England when very young, for the purpose of receiving an education suitable to the rank of his father, and his own prospects. His mother was a native of the West-Indies, a woman of colour: she opposed her son being sent to England; but her husband was resolved: he wished William to be brought up to his own profession--the law. William was therefore sent to Edinburgh to be educated.
Having learned the first rudiments of education, he was sent to the academy of Dr. ----, where he studied mathematics. Having left school, he went to his father’s agent, a friend who resided near Liverpool.
After some time he was apprenticed to a respectable attorney at Liverpool, at whose office he remained near three years, when he became tired of confinement. He had for some time felt great inclination to go to sea, and the captain of a vessel, to whom he disclosed his wishes upon the subject, promised to take him out as his clerk on his next voyage.
Without taking leave of the gentleman to whom he was articled, he entered on board the merchant vessel, and soon had cause to repent, for after the vessel had left the port, he was compelled by the captain to perform duty.
On the voyage a king’s ship stopped the vessel, and impressed Davidson and many of the crew. He arrived in England about six months afterwards, and wrote to his father’s friend a supplicatory letter. His father’s friend sent for him, and at his own particular desire, apprenticed him to a cabinet-maker, in Liverpool.
Davidson was a personable young man, and was upon the point of marriage to the daughter of a respectable tradesman at Liverpool; but her friends sent her off, and prevented the match taking place. Davidson being somewhat disappointed, determined to leave England, and to visit his relatives at Kingston, in Jamaica.
He took a passage on board of a West India merchantman, and on his voyage again experienced the misfortune of being impressed into the King’s service. He took the first opportunity of running away from the vessel on its arrival in port, and having obtained some money from his friends, he got work at his trade as a journeyman.
About twelve months after, his mother allowed him two guineas per week, which was paid him regularly through her agent. Davidson was employed by Mr. Bullock, a cabinet-maker at Litchfield. He was a most excellent workman, and was able to get three or four guineas a week, being a man of considerable taste in his profession, and chiefly employed in fitting up the houses of noblemen and gentlemen in the neighbourhood.
With his mother’s allowance he was able to live and dress very genteelly; and the company he kept was highly respectable. By some accident he met a young lady of the name of Salt, who resided at Litchfield; she was only sixteen years of age. She imbibed a strong regard for Davidson, and, unknown to her family, she allowed him to visit her. Miss Salt had at her own disposal, when of age, the sum of 7,000_l._ She communicated to her mother her passion for Davidson. Her mother objected to it; but finding that nothing could wean her from her attachment, she consented to allow Davidson to visit her daughter.
He frequently paid visits unknown to the young lady’s father: the latter, however, at length obtained information of these clandestine interviews, and laid wait for him; and, as he entered the garden late one evening, he fired a pistol at his head, and the ball it contained passed through Davidson’s hat. A constable was sent for, and Davidson was taken before a magistrate, charged with attempting to commit a robbery; but upon Davidson stating the simple facts of the case, precisely as it occurred, that he was courting the daughter, with the privity of Mrs. Salt, though against the desire of Mr. Salt, he immediately set Davidson at liberty, and committed Mr. Salt to prison for shooting at him.
While Mr. Salt was in prison, he sent for Davidson, and promised him his daughter, if he would not prosecute him. Davidson did not appear against him, and he was set at liberty.
Mr. Salt afterwards repented of his promise, and, to evade the pledge he had given, he told Davidson that he would not object if he would only wait till she was of age. Davidson communicated to Miss Salt the wish of her father. She replied, “You know my sentiments towards you now. I cannot say, if I remain single till I am of age, what they may be then;” and expressed herself angry that Davidson should be inclined to agree to her father’s proposal for deferring their union. Davidson had previously written to Jamaica, to his mother, and informed her of his intended union, and she had remitted 1200_l._ to a banking house in London, and placed it at his disposal.
Miss Salt was sent by her father to see a relative in a distant part of the country, and before she had been many months there, she married another suitor.
Davidson, who had entertained very great affection for the lady, upon hearing that she had broken her faith with him, went to a chemist’s shop at Litchfield, and in a fit of despair, purchased some poison, and took it; he had not swallowed it long before he communicated to a friend the rash act he had committed, when the latter immediately procured a powerful antidote, which Davidson took, and which destroyed the effect of the poison in a great degree, though he was unwell for a considerable time after. When he recovered, he left the place, and took a large house near Birmingham.
With the money his mother had sent him he entered into an extensive way of business; but being, from the disappointment in his marriage with Miss Salt, rendered quite unsettled in his mind, he did not attend to his business, and in a short time the whole of his money was expended.
Previous to his acquaintance with Miss Salt, he was employed by Lord Harrowby to fit up his house, and had frequent conversations with the Noble Lord upon the plan of decorating the interior of the mansion.
After Davidson’s failure in business, near Birmingham, he came to London, and was employed as a journeyman by Mr. Cox, a cabinet-maker, in the Haymarket, to whom he had been strongly recommended, by some gentlemen forming part of the congregation of a Chapel at Walworth, which Davidson frequented, and where he also made himself active as a teacher to the Sunday-school attached to the Chapel. It was during the period of his service with Mr. Cox, that the circumstance happened alluded to by Davidson on his trial, of an indelicate attack on the person of one of the female teachers at the school; but we are compelled to state, that his account of the affair is directly the reverse of the truth. The fact was, that he habitually indulged in attempts of a gross and indelicate nature on the persons, not only of the teachers, but even of the children of the school; way-laying them on their return home, particularly in the evening after their attendance on divine worship, and taking improper liberties with them. The outward sanctity of the man screened him from suspicion, and the indelicate nature of his attacks silenced for too long a period the virtuous and innocent females, who were the objects of his vile attempts; but at length his conduct became too gross for endurance, and one of the ladies communicated it to the committee. This led to enquiry, and the result was the most perfect unmasking of the hypocrite, who was expelled with contempt and indignation from that society and religious community, which he had so long disgraced by making it the means of indulging his brutal propensities.
After this detection and exposure, his conduct was more narrowly observed, and his habitual lying, prevarication, and intrigue, became notorious. Indeed he seemed to delight in evasion, and scarcely ever spoke the plain truth.
About four years ago he entered into business for himself at Walworth, and then married a Mrs. Lane, the widow of a respectable man, who had left her with four small children; for a short time he appeared to be doing well. At length trade fell off, and he was obliged to remove to London. He then took a lodging in Mary-le-bone.
He had known Harrison (one of the transported conspirators) for several years previous to his coming to Walworth, and by him he was introduced to Thistlewood, and by the latter to Edwards, the spy.
Edwards frequently called upon Davidson at his lodgings during the getting up of the Cato-street plot, and was, for several weeks before, his and Thistlewood’s constant companion. Edwards breakfasted with Davidson on the morning before the Cato-street plot was discovered; and on the same evening, in the presence of Mrs. Davidson, gave him money to get a blunderbuss out of pawn.
On the Sunday night, when Davidson parted, for the last time, with his distressed wife, he expressed himself very strongly against Lord Sidmouth.
After he had kissed her, he said, “If I should betray a weakness when I come out on the scaffold, I hope the world will not attribute it to cowardice, but to my intense feelings for you and my dear children. Farewell, love! pray that God will take mercy on me, and receive my soul.” Mrs. Davidson then left him.
This unfortunate woman is left with six children; four by her former husband, and two fine boys by Davidson, both under four years of age.
The following letter was written by Davidson to his wife, enclosing the notice served upon him by the solicitor for the prosecution, that the indictment for high treason had been found by the Grand Jury.
“My dear Sarah,--According to the promise your entreaties caused me to make to you concerning matters of counsel, _&c._
I have sent you here the order I received last night--an order for application to either of the several justices therein mentioned, whereby an order will be granted to the applicant for the free admission of counsel, solicitors, _&c._ But I would rather, for my part, use such an order for you and my dear children, in preference to counsel, _&c._; and would now retain my integrity of not having any, only as it is the first time you ever ask the favour of being dictator, and as in such considerations I did grant you that request, I will not now fall from such a promise, to one whose sole interest and young family entirely depends on the result of this trial. Therefore, you can be advised how you are to act; for my own part, I am careless about it, as I am determined to maintain my integrity as a man against all the swarms of false witnesses, and I hope you will never be persuaded, or suffer the public to be led away with a belief, that I am fallen from that spirit maintained from my youth up, and had so long been in possession of the ancient name of Davidson (Aberdeen’s boast), and is now become feeble. Death’s countenance is familiar to me. I have had him in view fifteen times, and surely he cannot now be terrible. Keep up that noble spirit for the sake of your children, and depend that, even in death, it will be maintained, by your ever affectionate husband,
“WM. DAVIDSON.”
“Mrs. Sarah Davidson, “12, Elliott-row, Mary-le-bone.”
The following is a copy of the letter, which he wrote to Lord Harrowby, referred to in page 357, it is evidently a rank falsehood, written in the hope, perhaps, of obtaining a respite: